


Carver

by heartsyhawk



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Misgendering, Parent-Child Relationship, Sibling Bonding, Trans Carver Hawke, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, it is accidental/unintended on both parents' part but quickly corrected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 20:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11364654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsyhawk/pseuds/heartsyhawk
Summary: Malcolm Hawke meets his son for the first time.





	Carver

**Author's Note:**

> All cards on the table: Leandra does not respond to the situation in this fic very well or supportively. She reacted before she understood what exactly happened or why. I see her as a woman who puts a lot of weight on expected roles and she was shocked by a major change she did not know was coming. That said, I do plan to write more with this version of the Hawke Family that will hopefully display her in a different light and show her loving and supporting her son. 
> 
> Thank you [onceuponanerd](http://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponanerd) for betaing. Any remaining mistakes are mine. Although grammatically incorrect, I did try to keep Carver's speech correct to the age he's meant to be.
> 
> Disclaimer: I am merely playing in the wonderful world of Dragon Age and really don't own very much. Katarina is a custom Hawke of mine, but everyone else is a Bioware character.

Malcolm Hawke had barely closed the front door behind him when he noticed his wife at the hearth, stirring the stew pot over the flame with a furious expression. 

“Hello, Love,” he announced his presence cautiously.

She looked up sharply and smiled. It was tight, and stressed but still affectionate. “Hello, Darling. How was the market?”

“It went as well as it could have,” Malcolm shrugged. “The wool fetched a higher price than expected, what with the cold coming early this year. I sold all the furs and most of the crops I went with and picked up everything we needed and took home some extra coin besides.” He cleared his throat. “How were things here?” Leandra gave him a sharp look through narrowed eyes. “I...was only gone for two days; was it truly that bad?”

“Worse.” Leandra said curtly. “Half an hour after you left, the twins were up that old tree, you know the one. I’ve told you to cut it down a hundred times, and I’ve told them not to climb it two hundred more. I expect they’ve learned why, now that Bethany’s fallen out of it.”

“I’ll get it down first thing in the morning, Love,” Malcolm promised with a wince. “Is she alright?”

Leandra sighed. “She broke her arm and lost her two front teeth. The surgeon says we’re lucky it wasn’t worse. She’s to spend the rest of the week in bed, just to be safe.”

Malcolm ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “I’ll go check on her. And the other two?”

His wife huffed. “I do not know what has gotten into your children today, Malcolm Hawke, truly, I do not.”

“What happened?” Malcolm raised an eyebrow. He knew all three of his children were spirited and often got into mischief, but they were usually very respectful toward their mother.

“Go ask your eldest daughter,” Leandra scoffed and threw her hands up irritably. “Just you wait until you’ve seen what she’s done to her sister. I left her in the barn until dinner. I'll leave her punishment in your hands; I cannot look at her right now. I’m too upset.”

Malcolm was shaken and set off to the barn immediately after he set down his travel bag, wondering what the kids had possibly done to upset their mother so much. His mind raced through all the worst possible scenarios and he braced himself for something horrible. He was relieved to see his two eldest children standing in the corner facing the wall--neither of them were physically hurt, at least--and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Two faces turned around immediately. Katarina, bless her, was wearing the exact same expression her mother had been, but at twelve, she’d rather die than hear that she looked so much like her mother. But in addition to her anger, there was a flash of something hot and defiant in her eyes, and Maker, Malcolm knew that look too. Bethany’s twin however, was tear streaked and red eyed under the simple tightly tied cap, nervously clutching an old worn hand-sewn Mabari toy and looking for all the world terrified to see him there.

“Do either of you care to tell me why you’re here?” He crossed his arms. “Your mother is in a right state.”

“I’m the only one in trouble.” Katarina was quick to admit. “Mother is angry at me, but the Pup thinks you’ll hate what I did as much as her or more, so you'll be mad at both of us.”

“And why’s that exactly, Katarina?” He asked sternly. “She said you did something horrible.”

Maker take him, that was his own defiance staring at him as his daughter straightened up to her full, lanky height,and clenched her jaw while jutting it forward. “I did not do anything horrible. Yes, I sassed Mother and did something she didn't like but you two have always told me to not let anyone be mean to the twins. I assumed that included either of you.”

“Mother was...being mean to Maura?” Malcolm reached out his arms to pull the six year old into a reassuring hug. “She told me you had done something to at least one of the twins.*

Katarina looked like she’d sucked a whole lemon into her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “I cut their hair. Bethy’s came out fine. Mother didn’t like how I did this one's.”

“You better show me what you did,” Malcolm sighed. 

Katarina knelt down next to her little sibling. “Can I take off your cap, Pup?” The child’s head shook frantically. “It’s okay, I promise. I bet Papa will like it.”

Malcolm’s heart melted a little at how gentle his oldest was being, and he watched intently as she untied the strings and pulled off the cap. Immediately he sucked in a sharp breath.

The haircut was neatly done, but very short, shorn close to the head and ears in a reasonable approximation of the way he wore his own. 

“Why did you do this, Katarina?” He asked gently. He genuinely wanted to know, and to understand. “This is very short. Like a…”

“Like a boy.” Katarina said quietly. “Yes, exactly. That was the point.”

“I see,” Malcolm nodded. He didn’t, really, but he was attempting to process it and understand. “May I ask why you cut Maura’s hair like a boy?”

Maura went stiff in his arms and started sniffling and working up to a cry. 

Katarina took her sibling’s hands soothingly and took a deep breath. “Because...because he says he isn’t a girl.” She murmured it, daring him to dispute her words. “He’s been saying he's a boy for years, but he hasn't wanted to tell you two because he’s afraid you and Mother would be angry. Today, I saw the opportunity to help him look like how he wants and feels and took it. And I’d do it again. Until Mother started yelling, he was so happy.”

“Is this true, Maura?” Malcolm asked patiently. “You...don’t want to be called a girl?”

“Yes, Papa.” The six year old sniffled miserably.

“He’s been saying he feels like he’s supposed to be a boy since he knew the difference between boys and girls.” Katarina said simply. “It upsets him when we call him a girl or make him wear a dress or tell him how pretty he is. And he specifically asked me to cut his hair like yours. I thought I did a pretty good job.” 

“And so you did,” Malcom said, and it was true. “It’s a very nice haircut, Pup. Your sister made you look just like me.” He said it with a soothing smile. “You look so grown up.”

“You’re not mad?” Katarina asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you explain this to your Mother, Katarina?” He sighed.

“She got pissed and started yelling the second she saw it.” The girl rolled her eyes. “You’d think I cut the kid’s ears off instead of the braids he didn't want.” Her eyes flashed. “She never listens anyway. Not about important stuff. You know she doesn't.”

Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your mother…”

“Knew you were a mage before she decided to have a baby with you.” His daughter's voice was cold and angry. “If she didn't want a mage daughter--”

“That is quite enough, Katarina.” He said tersely. “I will not have you speak about your mother or I that way.”

She narrowed her eyes and stared hard for a long moment and then glanced at her little sibling and sighed. “I won't, Papa.”

Malcolm gave her a weak smile. “Thank you, my girl. Now,” he made eye contact with his younger child. “Of course I am not mad at you, Pup. I am so sorry that you thought I would be.”

“You always tell us not to be different,” the six year old said softly. “Cause different is dangerous. Like Kat and you with...you know.”

“Oh, Pup…” Malcolm sighed. He felt a lot older and heavier than he had even a few minutes earlier. “This isn't...people can be awful to people who are different. And it can be scary. Kat and I...we have to be careful not to get the wrong kind of attention. And you might have to be careful with who you tell this to. But I could never be mad at you for who you are.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Very,” Malcolm said firmly. “The three of you, you and your sisters, are some of the best parts of my life. I wouldn't change you for anything. Your Mother and I love you and wanted you, all of you, very much.” He smiled warmly. “And you know what?”

“What, Papa?” The child asked, wide blue eyes hopeful and curious.

“I always wanted a little boy.” Malcolm whispered conspiratorially.

“You did?”

“Of course.” He nodded solemnly. “Way back when I taught apprentices in the circle, I thought to myself that I would like a son. And now it seems I have one. Have had one, to hear your sister talk about it.”

“I'm not a normal boy though,” the six year old said sadly with downcast eyes and a morose look.

“No, I suppose not.” Malcolm frowned. “But Katarina can make ice with her hands. And Bethany broke her arm and swallowed her front teeth. None of you are especially normal. You are all wonderful exactly as you are.”

“Exactly as we are?” Maura echoed skeptically.

“Well, perhaps with less sassing your mother or climbing in trees you have been told not to,” Malcolm joked. “For that, Katarina, you will help me cut down that old tree and chop it into useable firewood tomorrow morning, and you will both have extra chores to make sure Bethany’s chores get done, at least until she is allowed out of bed. But, who you are is who you're meant to be, Maura.” He paused for a moment. “Do you still want to be called Maura?”

Malcolm watched his child- his son, he corrected himself- think about it. His dark blue eyes were narrowed, and he was chewing on his bottom lip carefully. “Well…” he started cautiously. 

“You can tell Papa,” Katarina coaxed with a gentle smile. “He won't yell.” She looked over at Malcolm, warning him with another of Leandra’s looks. “Tell him what you've told me.”

The child took a deep breath and nodded. “Maura is a girl name. I don't like it.” He turned his large teary eyes to the floor. “Mama told me you named me it special for a friend, but it feels wrong a little.”

“I see.” Malcolm nodded. “That makes sense. Do you have a name you like better? That doesn't feel wrong?”

“I've just been calling him Kid and Pup,” Katarina piped up dubiously.

“You mean...I could pick?” 

“Within reason, I don't see why not. The healer told us early to expect a pair of girls when we were having you and Bethany, so we never thought about a name for a boy.” Malcolm admitted. “I suppose there is always my father's name, if you would like to be called Garrett.”

“No, I don't think that's good as a name for me.” The six year old shook his head hesitantly. “Do you have any other ideas?”

Malcolm thought for a moment and scratched his bearded chin. “Actually...what if we used a different name based on the friend I named you for in the first place? How do you feel about...Carver?”

“Carver?” Katarina wrinkled her nose. “Was your friend a butcher or a woodcutter or something?”

“Neither of those, no.” Malcolm shook his head with a smile. He figured that was probably a story for when they were older and things were less black and white to them. Someday, but maybe not when his daughter was already hot under the collar about her magic and her mother resenting it. “But he was a man, a good man. We changed his name slightly to make it fit for you. His real name was a bit too Orlesian for around here.” Both his children's faces scrunched in horror. “But he was also called Carver. It's a good strong name and I've never had a better friend.”

“Carver,” the small child tried it out seriously. “He was really your best friend?” Malcolm nodded to confirm it and his son seemed delighted by the idea. “I think...I think I like that name, then, Papa,” the six year old smiled, shy but happy.

“Alright, then. Come on and let's all go inside. Dinner should be ready soon, and Katarina can set the table while we explain everything properly to your mother...Carver.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Carver's deadname I did use Maurevar Carver as a starting point, because I love the idea of Malcolm naming his child for the templar who helped him get away from the tower, even with a slightly gender skewed name.


End file.
